Stowaway

I swam for the island because I was hungry. Little did I know it would be an adventure of a lifetime.

I’ve spent my whole life on the Pungo River in North Carolina. I built myself a cozy nest to call home on a lovely wooded area of swamp. I enjoy the nights…the star filled skies, the sounds the swamp life chatting away. The summers are warm and still. It was on a night like this that I was out for a swim, and got a little peckish. An island in the distance shone brightly. I knew from experience that places like that were good places to eat. If the lights are on at this hour, someone’s cooking.

The shore I landed on was cool and clean…an odd feeling from the muck I was used to. A passing summertime thunderstorm had left a layer of cool, clean water on everything; it was like heaven! I strolled along the shore, sometimes skipping a step. And there was food, but not as much as I had originally hoped.
I had a quick bite, then sat on the shore enjoying the evening.

Before I knew it, it was dawn. The air was so still, I knew it would be a hot one. Having lost track of time, I didn’t think I’d have time to swim home so I found myself a cozy spot on my new island home.

It was about this time that things started going badly. Sure, maybe I should’ve noticed that instead of sand the beach here was made of a slippy white material. Sure, maybe I should’ve taken note of the trees with silver trunks and arching white canopy. Or the grass that was made of striped brightly colored fabric.

But I didn’t notice. In the morning, great creatures roamed about and mechanical sounds rumbled to life. My beautiful island is a ship! And I am an inadvertent castaway!

Lucky for me the alien inhabitants of my island ship seem generally uninterested in my presence. I believe that the quadruped Chief of Security has yet to spot (or smell) me. This is my greatest threat, because he seems very interested in the food supplies.

I was not alone in my swim for the mystical island of light. It was a good place to find food, and I believe that a few of my kind my also have joined me on the adventure. I have risked a few calls to see who’s here, but the information coming back is sketchy.

Will I ever see my little patch of swamp again? If you are reading this, please send swamp water and small bugs.

Thanks... Stowaway Tree Frog